DESCRIPTION: → Spade has wavy brown hair, reaching just below his chin in the front, and becoming shorter towards the back. He takes pride in his abnormal hair and will not leave his apartment if it is lacking its usual shine. His eyes are of the rarest color: emerald green. They are quick and sharp—rich-looking and kind, yet they are hardly ever seen, being as they are always hidden beneath a pair of sunglasses. Spade will not do much of anything if his sunglasses aren’t within reach and is extremely protective of them. He also cannot walk past a sunglasses rack without trying every pair on.

Spade is built with well-defined muscles, yet still remains lean. His tall form is sculpted like a rock, his true strength hidden beneath his skin. The tone of his skin is relatively tan seeing as he enjoys spending time outside and doing certain things himself (like buying his own cigarettes) rather than ordering people to do it for him. It just isn’t his style…except when involving paperwork, but that’s another story. Slowly, he has accepted the whole idea of wearing the Amestris military uniform when, in the past, the royal blue shit going on there was way too much and cramped his style. Nowadays, he doesn’t really care. It is what it is and if it prevent his men from shooting him then so be it. As for dogtags? Totally addicted. He’s like one of those animals that when you take off their collar they feel naked. Yeah, Spade’s that way about his dogtags. On any other day that doesn’t involve the grueling task of waking up for work, he wears black or navy blue muscle shirts, dress shirts, and anything else flashy that suits his ways. He loves wearing leather pants or stained-jeans with the occasional frayed hole. He is a man of a loose yet slick style. His boots are Doc Marten top-of-the-line leather and they come to a tip in the front. His coat is a navy blue trench that reaches his knees and bells out, leading down the sleeves is a white cross. He never wears gloves because his digits are callused to all hell anyway.

When Spade walks, his step is brisk and alert, brimming with authority and confidence. His voice is low and drawls out in lazy slurs. It captivates most people even if he has spoken only one word, adding to his intriguing personality and fashionable looks. Marring that smooth, toned skin is a tattoo on his left shoulder of an upside down cross, adorning lop-sided wings and threatening nails that spell ‘SIN’. Below it, it reads: ‘When you gonna learn’. Its true meaning refers to his past wherein he killed the first woman he had ever loved. Below it, obtained when smashed out of his mind on Creig whiskey, Spade remedied his first tattoo with a dice cast to the nonexistent number seven, reading ‘Kyahr’, Shu’s name carried through each of her lifetimes. The number seven not only referred to lucky number seven, but also the distance his alkahestry reached in feet and the number of lives the soul comes back to this world, in which Spade responded with: "I wonder how many times I've fallen in love with you..." Thus, the tattoo because he totally needed a superficial way to show that his previous tattoo no longer applied—that maybe he had finally learned.

PERSONALITY: → Spade will not get up before eleven. To him, mornings are meant to be slept through. Unfortunately though, many things tend to clash with his way of life, forcing him to comply with rising before the designated hour. Now girls, they were a completely different story; they kept him awake until morning. Spade is the definition of a playboy through and through, at one time disregarding the concept of love altogether. Through one mistake after another, with Shirley’s ghost in his footsteps, Spade met Alisa. Alisa was a rough female that stood on par with himself, good in bed, but dirty in mouth. It was her rough exterior that alerted Spade that no, he didn’t love her; he envied her. She was true to herself, open, raw—something Spade wasn’t nor could ever be. He saw his best friend, Shula Brighton, and realized with horrifying clarity that she was another Shirley. He was in love…and that terrified him. He had admitted it to her in the hospital, but both of them wrote it off as something different from what it was. Again, Spade put voice to ‘I love you,’ shedding light on a relationship so enigmatic that even the detective was at a loss.

Despite being engaged to Shu, every single time he sees a woman, he will find himself spewing an array of cheesy lines to attract them to him. It always works, but he knows there’s a certain Ishvallan a phone call away. He’s never serious in his flirtations, but merely keeping up his face—his persona; it’s who he is. She understands and has told him countless times that it’s only surface-level; what they have is something Spade cannot even begin to explain. That’s why he asked he to marry him. Honestly, Spade doesn’t give two shits about marriage, but he gives all the world and then some about Shula. With a ring on her finger, she’ll be safe. With one on his, the girls he’s swooning will realize it’s just him being a baboon. Spade still carries around his age-old cheesy one-liners, crooked lady-killer smiles, and his dazzling green-eyed wink behind the shades, but at the end of the day, his full attention is reserved fully for Shu. This is a new thing for him—this non-suffering-accepting-what-happened-is-in-the-past spiel. And, really, if you asked the guy himself, he would probably say that maybe now he’s finally found what's called happiness.

Beyond Spade’s friendly and charming shell, he is actually a very vulnerable, distrustful, and insecure man. His remaining guilt over the past often throws him into fits of depression, which he then tucks neatly behind a silly façade. It is a façade so complex that not even the closest people to him are able to see through it, except Shu on her best days. But sometimes it can even be argued that he purposely shows her in order to show someone that he really isn’t perfect. His guarded smile can be annoying at times, but when a man is moping with a bottle of Jack that means no women allowed. Spade used to regard himself with no worth. It made him able to jump into battle, guns blazing, and no remorse. He’d turn a blind eye to fallen to just keep walking, drinking away his sorrows and forgetting the names on the grave markers. He never thought himself fit for loving anyone, having killed the one woman he had ever felt for, yet through Shirley’s ashes, treaded Shula, opening his eyes to a new kind of tenderness. He began to see himself clearer, obtaining the level of sober. His intense smoking and drinking habits all but diminished, his recklessness turning to protectiveness. Hold tight to those you hold dear. God forbid anyone would try and pry his grip off. Over his dead body. He wouldn’t lose anymore. Spade Aeries was not about to give up. Determined to the bitter end, he’d never go down without a fight. Those under him had his unwavering protection. But men die, and Spade knows this. He’s accepted the hardest truth by watching Markus fall just beyond his grip, into a place he could not follow. And from a fucking children’s ride too. After that, Spade never went near festivals or amusement parks.

Along with his sober streak, came clarity—clarity too strong to block out. Spade was assaulted by his own genius observances, seeing everything. He recorded details of all within sense, his knowledge so expansive that he could determine much of anything from just a glance at a stranger on the street. The ex-detective was no longer such, but instead a master of deduction, capable of tearing a person to shreds with his eyes, revealing every dirty secret supposedly cleverly hidden. It was overwhelming, which was another reason why Spade partook in many a case of beer in the past. Readjusting to his own sight, Spade finally fell back into step with the man he used to be, carrying the weight of the past ten years on his shoulders like air to Shu’s smile. Save for the air was rancid with two packs of cigs a day. BD

HISTORY: → It was a hot summer day, the grass burnt from weeks without rain and the cicadas crying without knowing they were about to die. Yu Shen turned on the faucet and watched as water poured out into the drain during a drought. It was funny how humans lived in luxury, unaffected by the world locked outside by thin walls of concrete. When he was a child growing up, his parents (the King and Queen of Xing) had always complained about the natural world, saying how it invaded their lives and cost them money. He never understood that, and so he never truly bonded with his parents. They often reminded him of his disdain and as soon as he had graduated from high school at the very top of his class, he was sent to Amestris to make money for his thirsting country. Ordered from the castle, he looked back if only to smile in encouragement at his younger brother, Saeji, who would ascend the throne in his place. Instead of being proud of Yu, his parents had been afraid… They had feared him and his sharp wit—never able to teach him anything because he already knew what they were about to. The worst part was that he not only knew what they were supposed to teach him, but he knew more than them about it.

Yu moved to Creta when he was sixteen, attending some high-class college his parents didn't pay for. Actually, he had gotten a full ride from the department, people tripping over themselves to ensure that he was emitted. Being so young and careless, he shrugged his shoulders and took it. Classes were boring, mundane, but the art of deduction fascinated him, his eyes all over the crime textbooks. He changed his major in a hot second, focusing entirely on becoming a private eye. If he could pass all his classes successfully and get out into the real world on his own, he'd then be able to make enough money to send home, keeping his family from starving and losing power in Xing. His little brother depended on him! Steeling himself for the worst, Yu met a friend named Markus who helped him with his studies in Cretan and Amestrian. Markus was an easy fella who got along so great with Yu that they stirred up way more trouble than they should have. It was a blast, really.

In only two years’ time, he graduated with flying colors at the age of eighteen, immediately deciding to move to Amestris once he got a good hold on the language. Markus wasn't in support of the idea, but promised to visit. With that, Yu was able to leave with a clear head, moving into an apartment and ignoring the political issues surrounding his country (Xing) and Amestris. Instead, Yu focused on the smaller issues, even going so far as to give himself an Amestrian name: Sakuya Aeries. In due time, he became a police detective assigned to decode the most complex crimes. It was soon after he obtained a high-ranking job in the police force that he was dubbed an official genius in Amestris as well with an IQ so high that he made the newspapers. His fame sprouted from there and soon the higher ups were begging him to be the head of the department. This enthralled him and he accepted right away, moving into his new office. Many new recruits joined in his stead and he began teaching them the ropes, but he still found no one suited enough to be his partner like Markus had.

That was when a miracle occurred: a girl named Shirley joined the force straight from college and Sakuya was instantly taken by her. As time went by, they solved many impossible cases together, hunting down murderers, mad scientists, and mastermind alchemists. They became a famous pair, seen often in newspapers, magazines, and even on the news channels. Sakuya felt happiness for the first time, and watched as it transformed into love. They went on dates, out to dinner, and danced laughing in the streets, watching the stars swarm overhead. Sakuya had never felt anything like it and she claimed that he kept her breathing. All the while, he continued to send money to his family with occasional souvenirs for his brother.

At the climax of his career, Shirley and Sakuya were given a complex case of murders committed by an alchemist by the name of Spade who was experimenting with neuro alchemy. They tracked the man to the scene of his next crime, taking his unscathed victim to safety. But as they insured the woman’s safety, the suspect fled into the sewer systems. They soon followed, chasing him down. Sakuya held Spade at gun point, but hesitated before he pulled the trigger, having never shot anyone before. In that moment, Spade raised a hidden gun and fired as he was running away. Sakuya dove to the side just in time to save his life, but the bullet shot through his side. He caught himself before he hit the ground and then stood up just in time to see Spade slip into the maze of piping. But the murderer didn’t flee as he was expected to, instead, Spade went back for his victim, killing her and all the guards around her. After the gunshots faded, he came back for the genius and his female side-kick.

Now they were the ones being hunted. As they stumbled as quickly as they could towards the exit, Sakuya felt himself falling from Shirley’s grasp. He couldn’t go any further and he felt his vision fading slowly to black. Clutching the gun he held tightly, he told Shirley to go without him. She said desperately she couldn’t leave him, but when she saw his fading expression, she said she would go and get help—that she would come back for him. As she turned to run out of the exit, a single shot ran through the damp air. She fell, her blood hitting the ground first and pooling around her body. Spade had shot her straight through the heart—not with alchemy, but with a single gun. Sakuya could see no more, losing his consciousness fast, but not before he screamed her name.

He woke up in the hospital, learning that Shirley was dead and that a murderer named ‘Spade’ never existed. He hadn’t heard anything more about the one who killed his love, seeing as everyone he talked to claimed that there never was anyone named ‘Spade’. That hot day, the two of them were actually tracking a man named Frank Summers who was presumed to have gotten away after killing Shirley and injuring himself. No one had witnessed the murder themselves except for Sakuya whose memories were dank and shrouded with the weight of a broken heart. The shock at hearing a man named ‘Spade’ never existed made Sakuya question his sanity, but the doctors insisted that he was perfectly sane.

Sakuya made a full recovery, but fell into terrible despair afterward. He went on leave, his boss allowing him to recover mentally for a while. But after a year, everyone gave up on him coming back. He drank himself into the ground, stopped sending money to Xing, and was hospitalized from alcohol poisoning too many times to count. That was when he also got involved with gambling by playing various card games, poker, and his favorite: chess. Even drunk, he won, earning the anger of many opponents and getting into numerous bar fights. He had a knack for winning those too, beating the guys to a pulp on self-defense before calling the police on them. He then would stroll casually back to his apartment, a girl on each arm.

One sober day however, Sakuya had a moment of clarity. That was when he decided to take on the name Spade. Maybe then that man who ruined his life would hear the name and come after him. The name Sakuya was made up by himself anyway; it wasn’t like it had any worth to him. Spade Aeries figured the only way to become known throughout the world would be to get involved with the politics he hated so much. He joined the military as the newest, lowest ranking recruit, notifying his parents of his change in job. Spade’s talents were soon discovered by the higher-ups and he was promoted and used for advice on many levels. There even came a day when a renowned scientist sought Spade’s ideas. He asked him about neuro alkahestry and its possibilities, speaking of perception and memories. Spade was intrigued out of his haze of boredom and began constructing a circle for the purpose of tampering with a human’s perception. When he succeeded seventeen minutes later, the scientist was flabbergasted and requested it be tested immediately. When it proved to be successful, Spade grew famous once more.

Except something haunted him. Why did neuro alchemy come so easily to him? It felt like a freight train had hit him square between the eyes. And the next he woke, he was staring up at the ceiling of the science lab surrounded by the people who had been observing the experiment. They called for doctors, but Spade insisted he was fine...well, physically, but the shock was overwhelming. …Sakuya and Spade were the same person; Shirley and him had never run into Frank Summers that day…

The memories returned like a wave, submerging him in freezing cold water that tasted of salt, tossing him around beneath their black depths. He gasped as if trying to breathe, and vaguely realized the people growing closer to see if he really was as fine as he claimed. He waved them off and stood up, staring at the circle he had just recently drawn. It was the same one he had been trying to master while he was still on the force… Shirley…Shirley was the one who had shot him; not Frank as the force thought, and not Spade as he had thought. In fact… Spade had been someone that he created to cope with the shock of being shot by the one he loved. He had killed her… He was the one that had killed Shirley…but that was after she had betrayed him. …Why? He had to know why she had wanted him dead.

Dealing with this shocking revelation was not easy. Spade spent days on end locked up in his apartment, staring at the circle he had created. During that time, his fame spread throughout the military and gained the attention of the Fuhrer himself (Father at the time). He requested that Spade use this alchemy to bring battles to an end quickly. Spade accepted this role and became Central City’s Brigadier General, drowning himself in war and beer. He began the art of killing and the numbers grew so high he started to wonder if he had become like the murderer he had previously made up. …And what Shirley would have thought despite having betrayed him—despite him having killed her with his own hands.

Spade ended up traveling from battle to battle, ending them with surprising speed. For his talents, the Fuhrer gifted him with medal after medal. Yet to this day, Spade still searches for answers of Shirley’s intentions, but has found no leads concerning the issue.

Still nothing... Spade had all but given up, earning himself a reputation of being the drunkard of the military. He went through the motions of his job like a paperwork slave until orders came from the Fuhrer to go to the South. To Spade's shock, the Aerugese were invading. The Brigadier General took his newly established force and combated the Aerugese. Regardless of how much they fought however, they were continuously beaten down until almost all of Central's forces were annihilated. Spade requested a retreat and received no answer from Head Quarters. Were they abandoned? A bomb went off in Spade's face, temporarily deafening him. Josef, his head of military operations, began making plans for a kamikaze attack as a last tactic.

Luckily, Reila Tsukino of Fort Briggs swung in to their rescue, organizing a swift retreat. They managed to reach East City, torn apart. All who survived were but a couple hundred of Spade's personal troops. Their defeat was a terrible one. Later, Spade found out that Reila had killed the Fuhrer and now someone named Hild had taken the position with her brother, Aurel, backing her. Spade did not like this, but returned to Central under their orders after recovering in the hospital.

Once he returned, he determined that he despised the new Fuhrer's violent militaristic rule. It was mainly after he learned of their ideal to create a world war. Peace brought by war? Spade didn't really get it. He also didn't have the energy care. Eventually, he was confronted by an old Cretan college friend: Markus. He learned that the man was the commander of the Cretan military. Surprised, Spade agreed to assist his buddy with a coup of Creta. Also under Aurel's orders, he took a full Central army with him and succeeded.

Time passed quickly and Spade was growing more and more at home with the people around him. The Central City festival rolled around...and this year Spade Aeries, head of Central Head Quarters was put in charge of organizing the annual Central City Festival. While taking his job very seriously, Spade managed to plot his way out of doing little to no work. Why not dish out all the hard jobs to his friends and others in the military? Ah, they all needed a break anyway. Seriously now, these high-strung, uptight military men and woman--especially the woman--needed to cut loose once in a while! Amestris was doomed at this rate. Hell, the South was occupied by Aerugo still and everyone was running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to think of a way to reinforce the boundary line while at the same time forcing the bastards out of the country. Spade would roll his eyes at that.

Anyway, so about his master scheme! He mailed everyone whose addresses he knew (which didn't involve using the database at all >.>). In the beautifully decorated, blank envelop was a free ticket to the festival and a snazzy STAFF badge with their name on it. 'How convenient' they would think when really... there was a catch. There was always a catch--especially when Spade was involved. Heh heh heh >D Back to the point, those who actually got off their tight asses and went to have fun at the festival would soon find out that 'free' doesn't include the 'dom' part. Exactly; they would have to work a booth specifically chosen by the infamous playboy and alcoholic: Spade Aeries! Ah, what a genius.

If those he mailed the invitations to never show up though... He could only imagine the sad faces of all the children who were excited for that specific booth or ride. And not to mention...-smirk-...Spade would kindly enjoy meddling with their military record. Yes! This was a top secret, important, essential operation! That was why Spade also included a note of warning with his envelope: "Come or your record will suffer, Love, Aeries."

Of course, like always, things didn't pan out the way he had hoped... Markus challenged him to a fight atop the feris wheel:

"What!?" Spade spat out, cracking his damaged knuckles and glaring green daggers at this man...this paranoid bitter man that wasn't the same Markus he knew. And then Spade felt it: the premonition that came with his strange genius. He didn't know what it was, but it made him sick. ...or...it was just the beer--probably the beer. Whatever. He was pissed off. Nothing was going to stop his rage and Markus' misguided accusation! "Are you fucking kidding me, man?! Why do you think I would bring you here?! --have a few drinks, play some Black Jack. Maybe it was to kick your ass so I could get some pocket change for the slots. Seriously, what the fuck is this about!?" Spade was punched in the face. He flew backwards into a railing, slamming his back deep into something pointy and jagged. The breath left him, and his stomach twisted into knots with pain. For a moment Spade couldn't tell where the sky was. The world tipped and blood seeped from the back of his shirt and all over the wide slab of cold steel under him. He took a shuddering breath, sweat beading on his forehead and lacing through his brown hair. He removed himself from the knife-like piece of construction and gazed down at it in half-shock. Immediately down his back ran a stream of thick liquid. It was warm at first, but as the air hit it, it was cool and sticky. Spade had never gotten stabbed before. He was shot, beaten, stun-gunned, and kissed by a man, but never had he felt this sharp...reverberating pain before. He breathed out the same breath he had just taken in, and with slippery hands, he punched Markus again and again. This was something nearly unforgivable.

"No matter what..." Spade choked out, drawing Markus up by the collar of his shirt. "...guys like us, we..." Spade looked to the side, his head in a mess of equilibrium failure. "...we don't ask god damned questions!!" Spade lifted up his foot, regardless of how much it hurt him--no matter how much agony ran up and down his entire body--and he kicked a sharp cowboy boot right into Markus' busted ribcage. "Now--" But Spade wasn't able to finish his lecture. He cut off with horror, watching as his best friend was flung off the side of the ride. "F-fuck," he was able to murmur, lungs hitching, heart stopping...almost. In all of his dizziness...he just couldn't see...he really couldn't tell where...where that fucking ledge was!! FUCK!!

Bleeding all over himself, Spade threw himself over the ledge after him. He didn't think; he just jumped. He had to save him--reach him before...before!! Behind him, Spades steel wires danced in the rainbow of ferris wheel lights and wrapped violently around the protruding bar that was now covered in red. It latched onto it tightly and Spade felt the weight of it as he dove, head first after Markus: his drinking buddy, his gambling friend, the one who, when he lost, never complained...much.

As he was falling and leaving his abdomen somewhere in the sky, he slowly began to realize that he wasn't falling fast enough. He wasn't making it... Just a little more... fuckfuckfuck... holy shit. HOLY SHIT. Spade clamped a shuttering hand over his mouth in a feeling that could never be described. "MARKUS!!!!!!!!!!!!" He screamed, eyes suddenly overflowing. "YOU BASTARD!!...you--you fucking bastard..." Spade faded out, trying to reach out his hand only yards away...but--but it..wasn't enough. Spade Aeries took a deep breath, eyes widening to see the end. "DON'T LOOK BACK!!!!!" WHACK. "Don't...ever...look back..." The wire caught and rebounded Spade a bit higher in the air and then back towards the ground where he fell to his knees...still only a few yards away, not from Markus, no, but from the body of his best friend...no longer of this world.

And that was how he died. The festival was ravaged by bombs that the Pirates set, a tornado that Reila created, and Dietrich who sent Harumi to mess with people's minds. Spade was pissed. Only he was allowed to mindfuck people! Whatever. He hit the bars, met Ike again, and ran into a beautiful woman named Alisa after a character in a book that dies. How perfect was that? Then...he was sent to war in his hometown: South City. Josef Draper died. Spade cut off his attacker's arm whom he later learned was Raistlin Ambros General of Aerugo. And after a long, hard battle, Spade won with the war cry: "THIS IS OUR CRATER, BITCH!". Of course, the crater is but one thing: a crater. But Spade had a brilliant idea. Why not give Amestris...A Navy!? So South City was planned to become a world-wide famous tourist spot water park! Since it's so damn hot there constantly, it will be a hit! (And it will attract a ton of hot babes).

After that fight, Spade and Central were ordered to assist with the Cretan invasion in West City. There, Spade was shot and nearly died. Apos left on a pilgrimage. He and Shula comforted each other... And then, well, their homes, their country, and the people they were trying to protect were destroyed in bombs set by the Fuhrer. It was a great day. In the rubble of the bombs, Spade sat atop the remains of his favorite bar run by a black-haired greasy guy with grey eyes named Frank Summers. With him, died Shirley's secrets. With him, died the questions Spade never asked. And with him, died the name Sakuya.

Spade had met a girl. Yes, he had met many in his life, but he felt something different with this one... Her name had been Alisa. Alisa... He believed he was in love with her. He also loved Shula and was confused for a while, but... with Shu it was...spiritual, whereas with Alisa...he wanted her fire. But...

He was right. All along he was right about the world. Too cowardly to die--too nose deep in shit to realize it for a second time before making such a mistake as falling in love. He knew it when he heard his name--the name that wasn't his name--the lucky ace of spades. That's who he was and nothing more. It was in the wrong to allow people so close to his heart. Being a lover not a fighter only hurt in the end--hurt and scarred and left no room for more. "Spade.." she uttered in that cracked voice, falling away like sand between his fingers and water alike. "Spade.." she said, and he wished it wasn't his name. "Sakuya..."--her dying words, gurgling blood and losing the world as it was. No more no more no more. And it was over. Over and memories--memories he remembered only for the sake of her. For her and her inability to keep living because she was already bones--buried somewhere far away--somewhere in the wind where he couldn't visit. Those bones were hers, piled high in his mind and only allowing certain things to trickle through. Certain things like Alisa Donnikova; a woman he should have never crossed. It was regret suddenly regret and yet regretting the regret. He wished he hadn't gone to the bar that night... If he had...he should have never spoke to her. Just walk out Aeries! Even alchemy couldn't rewrite the past. But it was better to have met her.

Because now he knew that love was a mistake.

To play the game and lose--to play it again and lose again, meant to leave the table. He stood up. "I love you Spade but I can't do this..."Don't do it, love; no one should have to. To be a man of war meant that he was supposed to be a fighter, but... " I remember.. my grandfather used to tell Aaron and I over and over that you had to be willing to sacrifice as much or more than you expected to receive in life... That equivalent exchange applied to everything in life and not just alchemy..." Shula's voice came to him as a fuzzy blur of meaningful words spiraling at the brink of unconsciousness... He clenched a fist at his side. Equivalent exchange, huh? So what did he get out of all of this? What had he earned from all the death in his life, following him like a cloud of misfortune? It would make any man writhe. Writhe from the thoughts Spade was thinking. He smiled, lifting a hardened thumb to wipe away the stray tear that slipped past her barriers. He smiled, knowing it would soon be over.

He made a woman cry.

He was no longer the man he thought he was--Spade was shell of his glory and falling fast...like Markus. This was the end--the end of Spade Aeries the womanizer. Almost glad to have lost the womanizer mobile in chaos, only wondering in passing if it would ever be found. Seven...his sweet seven that had been through it all. He felt it shatter like a mirror--like he was no longer there. He had become a shadow... to go on meaninglessly until he died of lung cancer--he hoped (because liver cancer made you turn yellow. Spade didn't want to turn yellow). All he could think of doing was finding his rug in the ruins of Central HQ. Maybe they would have a tent for him there... and a doctor that had his prescription handy since...that was lost too. He slipped a hand in his pocket, touching the cold, bent metal of his zippo. "Don't worry," he said, barely hiding the gloom in his words, "I won't force you to. No one should have go through that." Kill it before it starts. Erase it before it's too late. Rid it before the pain. This was the last scar.

He pulled out a bent cigarette from his front pocket and shoved it between his teeth, hand shaking. Green eyes glossed with regret, filling with stormy clouds that wanted to scream. He lifted his lighter up, pushing back sobs. She was the last--she would be the last. But he didn't want to touch her head...feel her hair again brush along the lines in his fingerprints. He would remember it again and again as the moment when love died forever. Forever... It hurt. It hurt and he refused to listen to the toning bells in the dead of night telling him to stop. Stop! Before it too late! There's no going back. Isn't the pain better than a life of solitude? Do you want to drown in alcohol forever? Haven't you suffered enough? Selflessness...sweet generosity. No one should have to wait for their loved on to die in war... It was his mistake to think--to think that-- He flipped his lighter open and lit the cigarette, shutting his eyes, feeling the wetness grow under his eyelids. The Dragon's pulse moaned in his mind, humming despair. She wouldn't remember him. It was simple... two memories... That was all.

And that was all it took to fall in love.

She fainted after his cig sparked to life. He caught her and laid her down somewhere away from his fallen apartment. Her phone which was carelessly tossed was easy to access--and just as easy to erase his name from her phone book and from the recently called list. He went back to the remains of his life and trudged through it, looking at everything he no longer cared about. He found his phone, seeing he had a text from Kallie. He opened it and was overwhelmed. Funny, how work called the moment life fell apart at the seams. RIOTE... their plans and the dates in a rushed message. It made him wonder how...how she received such intell. But no matter. The explayboy would throw himself in the tunnel of work. He would hit the bar only to forget and never go to bed again.

Because that's what it took to lose love a second time.

Shit happened. Then he went to war with Drachma only to lose. RIOTE overpowered them, he nearly died, and nearly lost his brother. But... Alisa...was back in his life. And Shu was smiling. To Spade, that was more than what he needed to move on. That's not to say that Shirley didn't stop haunting him...

...until he realized that Alisa was not meant for him. His sad ideals of love for her were simply lies he constructed to cover over the truth of his desire for Shula Brighton--his best friend. He loved her. He loved her. He loved her. Realizing that was the hardest thing he had ever done, but he knew it and broke it off abruptly with Alisa. He didn't deserve her love--he didn't deserve anything for all the death in his life poisoned him and made him this way... Yet, it wasn't hard convincing him to stay by Shu's side. He stopped drinking, confronted the eyes of a detective unblurred by the effects of the alcohol, slowed his smoking, and admitted it to himself and to Shula that he loved her.

TRIVIA: → His brother is Ace Aeries → He is a detective. → He sees EVERYTHING, details, lies, etc. to such an extent that he can read people. → He is left-handed. → He is a god at any game involving luck. → He is a master at chess and any card game. → He gambles way too much. → When he drinks, he drinks way too much. → He is a smokestack. → He is a playboy. → He is a womanizer. → He has quoted Shakespeare more than he has quoted anyone else. → He has an array of fancy one-liners. → He doesn't value his own life as much as other people's. → He is very protective. → He is never without his sunglasses. → He killed his best friend, Markus, whom he went to college with in Creta. → He watched Josef Draper die. → He is in love and engaged to Shula Brighton. → He never wants to have kids. → He has never hit, injured, killed, or thought about hurting a female. → His one eye is almost permanently winked. → Spade's hobbies include: smoking, beer, collecting sunglasses, looking sexy, rampant sex, deep conversations with his car, setting bars on fire...TBC → He is now in custody of a Polish hen named Fro. → He is fluent in Amestrian, Xingese, Cretan, Ishvallan, and Esparian.

Spade should be promoted because he's been through hell and back. I can't think of anyone else that has run into the fire for his men. He has seen so many die and has been lamenting over it for years and years. Still, he has recovered and grows stronger yet. He devoted himself solely to the protection of Amestris, bowing before the ruins of his HQ. He has discovered Shula's Brighton's gifts and made her Head of South HQ despite not having authority to do so. But since the Fuhrer's are gone and the country has become a militaristic state, Spade gave himself the authority to. More reason to promote him for taking initiative to save his country from becoming chaotic and falling apart under the evil gaze of Aurelius and RIOTE.

"There's more to this than just black and white. The world can't be divided into that. There's reds and blues and greens and even more colors. How can you judge someone by one of two shades? It just doesn't seem fair to remain blind to rainbow, just because there's a puddle in your path."